


Red & Dead

by Destiny_Smasher



Category: Night In The Woods (Video Game)
Genre: Cowboys & Cowgirls, Gen, M/M, Video & Computer Games
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-24
Updated: 2018-12-24
Packaged: 2019-09-26 10:42:27
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17140304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Destiny_Smasher/pseuds/Destiny_Smasher
Summary: Beatrice struggles to wrap her head around VR technology as her friends try to incorporate her into their Red & Dead Online group.(gift fic for @mollifiable)





	Red & Dead

A/N: Giftfic for bae. [You can download a PDF with proper formatting for the intended experience right here.](https://drive.google.com/open?id=1pK1MYUm-8dNBqbDcY68vhOBrTpS2H3uY)

* * *

 

 

 

  
[ **Sceptre of Anuket** _\- signed in_ ]  
  
The sizzling sun at midday drowned the cloudless sky in bright light, blinding Beatrice as she emerged from the security of her ramshackle tent. She could tell she needed to get some breakfast – and probably some coffee while she was at it – straight into her stomach before setting her sights on anything else for the day. Probably wanted to make sure she was dressed for work, first. Hadn't she gotten some knew clothes last time...?  
  
Tall, black boots, dark, stained jeans, a black leather vest over a plaid shirt of navy blue, and a derby hat to top things off – black, of course. Surveying her outfit in a mirror, she felt satisfied enough.  
  
In a bit of a daze, she slowly sauntered her way around their humble camp. It was only her second time visiting this hostile territory. Her comrades in arms greeted her with fervor.  
  
“Sssssuupppp, BEE~”  
  
“ **YEE** -haw, _gaddy-OOP!_ ”  
  
“Oh, hey, Beatrice.”  
  
Good old Honest Angus was sitting at a small campfire to her left, plopped onto a log as he slowly ate his morning stew, one bite at a time. He gave her a gentle tip of his hat with his spoon still in hand. Grinning stupidly to herself at the wonder and novelty of it all, she reciprocated. Or, well, tried to.  
  
“Ha. Your, um, your hand is clipping through your face?” Angus chuckled softly.  
  
“Oh, what?” Beatrice tried to reorient her hand, which she noticed was suddenly disappearing outside of vision and utterly misaligned with where the corresponding hand was in reality. She twisted her head around to try and locate her disembodied hand, only for her vision to become blurred over by a message against a black sheet.  
  
[ _**Outside of play area**_ ]  
  
“ _Arghhh..._ -”  
  
Grumbling to herself, Beatrice carefully peeled her VR headset off of her eyes just enough to realize she was perhaps too close to the camera mounted by her TV set.  
  
“AHHMM A **COWBOI**!!”  
“BANG BANG SHOOT SHOOT BULLET BULLET!”  
“GUN GUN!”  
“Mweheheh...”  
  
Mae and Gregg's disastrously child-like glee was piercing through the voice chat as their characters ran circles around Angus' cozy campfire. Well. Awkwardly wiggled as they _walked_ around the campfire, since running was disabled at camp. All the while, Beatrice had to try shoving her sofa back slightly in the real world.  
  
“Are you, erh... _doing_ all right, there?” Angus prodded politely between spoonfuls of stew as  
  
“NO LAND FOR MASTERS YA'LL.”  
“MAKIN' MAH OWN DENSITY.”  
“You mean destiny?”  
“NUH UH pardner, YOU done heard me!”  
  
Trying to drown out the other two, Beatrice sighed, finally sorting her furniture out. Her living room was NOT big enough to properly accommodate this kind of thing...  
  
“ _Agh,_ yea. Sorry, uh...trying to sort my settings out,” Beatrice replied.  
  
“Oh, is it not picking up things correctly?” Angus helpfully began his procedural troubleshooting. “Perhaps you're too close to the sensor camera?”  
  
Clicking and tweaking the VR set back onto her face, Beatrice realized her arms were even more out of whack than before...  
  
Groaning to herself, she waggled the damn wand controllers around a bit in frustration.  
  
Dropping his empty stew bowl carefully on his sitting log, Angus got up and approached her.  
  
His in-game character looked...actually pretty similar to him in real life. Tall, slightly roly-poly, with a small bowler hat and round glasses so thick you couldn't see his eyes. He was dressed in a slick black suit with fancy, long dress shoes and a dark brown vest. His username floated above him:  
[ _Leader -_ **Honest Angus** ]  
  
Beatrice tried to wave at him, but her hand was rotated in the completely wrong direction, and off too far to one side.  
  
Exasperated at the disconnect between her gesture and its translation, Beatrice just sighed loudly into her mic.  


Angus offered his suggestion: “Try standing in a neutral position and hold down the 'Options' button...”

 

Beatrice took a second to find said button.  
  
**-BANG!-**  
  
The sound of gunfire _rattled_ Bea's skull, causing her grip on the controllers to tighten in a flash.  
  
The distant sounds of Mae and Gregg somewhere just out of camp were barely audible.  
  
She could make out their usernames floating above them in blue text.  
[ **X_witchdagger_X** ]  
[ **greggggggggory** ]  
  
“ _FUGGIN' DUCK._ ”  
“Gehhhhtt ittttt!”  
  
- **BANG! BANG!-  
**_“-wahhk wahhk-”_ **  
  
**“DAMNIT!”  
  
Beatrice took a moment to close her eyes and re-steady herself.  
  
“Ah, that's...-” Angus was mumbling, glancing off to the other two. “That noise might attract someone. Well, we're safe here, at least. We have the PvP turned off at our camp right now, so...-”  
  
“Angus,” Beatrice huffed tiredly. “... _Where_ is this button?”  
  
**-BANG!-  
  
**“HA. Fucker.”  
“HOWWWwww did you do that so easily???”  
  
“O-Oh, right. Should be on the right hand wand. To the right of-”  
Beatrice managed to find it quickly enough, and her vision, as well as the position of her hands, suddenly lurched around, making sense at last.  
“Found it. Thanks.”  
  
“ _Mmmm_ -hm.”  
  
“I upgraded my thingy, I guess.”  
“WHAT thingy??”  
“Dunno, mah dude.”  
“PARD.”  
“Dunno, mah pard.”  
  
“ _Hugh_ boy,” Beatrice sighed, rolling her head around a little and shaking her arms loose. “Where's the food and stuff at? I think I'm...-” Beatrice checked the meters and stuff floating at her periphery. “-... _hungry?_ Or is that, like, that I'm hurt?”  
  
“What's it look like?”  
  
“Oh MAN, I'm totally SKINNING this rabbit.”  
“I CAN SEE ITS FLESH.”  
“Mmmm. Polygonal flesh.”  
“What if I STAB it?”

 

“Errhh...like, a heart? It looks...like, weird.”  
  
“Ah, yea, that's probably your health core. I made some stew, it should be over that way.” Angus' large, disembodied hand pinched into a pointed index and he directed Bea off toward her right, where a giant pot was bubbling over another, larger fire. “The coffee should be over there, too,” Angus clarified.  
  
“Wait, you're just gonna LEAVE this perfectly good polygonally fleshy rabbit here?”  
“Just needed the fur.”  
“DIBS then.”  
“Sure.”

 

“Nice. I need to...refill my...lightning bolts? The hell?”  
  
“Heh. Your stamina, yea.”  
  
As Beatrice clicked the stick in her left hand, her character walked over to the food stuff – far slower than she would've liked. “What's that...do again?” she asked, regarding 'stamina.'  
  
“Bunch of things,” Angus explained, tagging along beside her. “Mainly, it helps you run. Or swim.”  
  
“Ah.”  
  
Bea reached the stew pot, and noted the metal pans beside it. She recollected how this worked – she reached one arm out, then clicked a trigger, and her digital hand attached a pan to it, with a spoon already inside, static. Holding the dish in one hand, she extended the other toward the pot, pinched her fingers toward a ladle, and marveled at how intuitive it was to scoop stew up with it, and plop it into her bowl. She could even see things tumbling and spilling along in the soup -- little chunks of...meat? Veggies? Something too polygonal to decipher exactly, but seemingly food-like.  
  
“Heyyyyy...”  
“Is Bea _READY_ yet?”  
  
“Yea. Give her a minute, guys, she's still getting used to this.”  
  
By the time she finished this process and could 'eat' her digital breakfast, Mae and Gregg were slowly waddling their characters toward them.  
  
Gregg's character was skinny and grizzled, with gray stubble all over his face and a big nose. He wore orange chaps with white boots and a black, flowing jacket over a maroon dress shirt. His spurs were noticeably big and he was wearing a snakeskin mountie-style hat.  
  
Mae's character was decidedly masculine, with a big black beard, super tall – the tallest of all four of them, easily – with muscles so big it looked unnatural. The eyes seemed to always look angry. Nothing but a white, sleeveless top and suspenders (had to show off the muscles, apparently?) and red assless chaps with leathery frills running down the sides. Instead of proper boots, her character was wearing scaly, red shoes with spiky spurs.  
  
Gregg's character was waving around a floppy sheet of grey...fur-like substance, waving it like a flag.  
  
“I am a PREDATOR,” Gregg declared.  
  
“Yes you are, Babe,” said Angus calmly and gently.  
  
“Only _eleven more to go_ and I can make a bag to, like...carry more bee-bee bullets or some shit.”  
  
“Ha.”  
  
Knowing her friends were waiting on her, Bea quickly scooped her spoon at the stew, lifting it toward her face. A loud slurping sound indicated she was 'eating' it, so she made quick work of the stuff.  
  
She found it amusing when Gregg and Angus' characters started bumping their heads together in a weird, disjointed way, with loud, over the top kissing noises emanating from their locations.  
  
Ignoring this display – but laughing through her nose at the idea of the two of them sitting in separate rooms virtually kissing each other – Beatrice fumbled around with her inventory, trying to find her drinking cup.  
  
“Bea, I got you a MEAL!” Mae was suddenly looming in front of her, flailing her arm around. A skinless rabbit with X's for eyes dangled with every small movement Mae made. As she caught wind of this, she figured out how to rotate it in such a way that rabbit corpse spun around in circles. “ _Mwahaha_...”  
  
“Uh...” Bea, now settling into this weird world again, put her dry tone back on. “You just bummed that off of Gregg's hunt.” She'd managed to pour coffee into her cup and lifted it to her face after saying this, taking a virtual sip from it.  
  
Mae flicked her hand out, opening her grasp, and the dead rabbit went drifting at an odd angle into the air before flopping onto the ground to Bea's side.  
  
“I. Got. You. _A meal._ ”  
  
“What if my cowgirl is vegan?”  
  
Mae protested, “GodDAMNIT Bee-Bee ya durn can't be VEGONE in this here land o' desparity!”  
  
“Sure I can,” Bea coyly disagreed, enjoying the way Mae was tossing her disembodied, frilly-gloved hands around.  
  
“You just ate venison in that stew, though,” Angus courteously informed her.  
  
“...So?” Beatrice played, sipping at her coffee again. “Venison isn't...vegan?” She chortled a little.  
  
“I. Got. You. _A MEAL_ ,” Mae insisted, waddling her character around the dead rabbit, nudging its ragdoll form across the dirt, inching closer to Bea.  
  
“...Mm.” Bea slowly bobbed her head up and down. “Yea, thanks,” she sarcastically drizzled out.  
  
“ANYWAY,” huffed Mae, “I woulda got you a duck but the fucker flew away.”  
  
Beatrice replied, “Almost like it didn't _want_ to get shot.”  
  
“I KNOW. What a jerk!”  
  
As Bea quietly drank the rest of her drink, ignoring the dead rabbit on the ground, Mae went about making her own bowl of stew.  
  
“Have you heard from Germ yet?” Gregg was wondering.  
  
“Oh, he said he can't join us tonight.”  
  
“AGAIN? Man, what the eff?” Gregg thrust out his hands, balling them into frustrated fists.  
  
Angus exaggeratedly 'shrugged' up both of his cartoony hands.  
  
“He's done been a reeeel dead-weight to this 'ere ENNERPRISE,” Mae scoffed with a thick accent as her character slopped and slurped up stew, meandering in a weird direction while her face remained fixed on Gregg and Angus. Done with her stew quite quickly, Mae chucked the bowl and spoon haphazardly into the air behind her. Bea tilted her head to one side to dodge the bowl, then twited her neck around to observe it landing off in the dirt, only to dematerialize in a puff of smoke shortly after.  
  
“I mean, I think it's a _good_ thing,” Angus pointed out, “He said he had to help some other folks out with something, that people were depending on him?”  
  
“On _Germ_?” Bea balked.  
  
“Apparently,” Angus said, just as surprised as she was. “I'm sure that's probably better than wasting his time _here,_ at least.”  
  
Bea took her last sip of coffee, and was content at seeing her little meters now 'full.'  
  
“So why are _we_ wasting our time here?” Bea posed, shaking out her cup, amused at the technology allowing her to do so. She opened her menu and placed the cup back into its proper place.  
  
“We have _day_ _jobs_ ,” countered Angus. “This is our escape from the daily grind.”  
  
Mae's character meandered off and away, toward her tent, as she grumbled, “For how much _money_ this shit cost, you BET I'm gonna waste my time with it...”  
  
Bea took a little offense at this at first, but...-  
  
“I paid for _half_ of yours,” she pointed out, her tone walking a delicate line.  
  
“And _I'm_ the reason you _have_ a day job,” Gregg reminded.  
  
“ _Exactly!_ ” Mae spat. “So for sure I gotta appreciate all this shiz. Right?”  
  
Well, OK, then. Good. Mae's response kept Bea's mood tipped toward the more positive side of said delicate line.  
  
“So, erh, I've got, like, an hour before I have to go to bed,” said Angus. “What did we want to do tonight?” His character waddled toward Bea, and he tilted his head to one side.  
  
“Aintchoo gotta **PLAN**?” Gregg teased, sneaking behind his boyfriend. He was waggling his virtual hands around at Angus' butt, snickering to himself.  
  
“A _PLAN_!” Mae huffed.  
  
Both Gregg and Mae began parroting lines of dialogue in a chaotic fashion. The joke was over Bea's head, but...they seemed to be having fun.  
  
“-THE PLAN”  
“-a **PLAN** ”  
“-ck to the _PLAN_ ”  
“-got- _ **DAM**_ plan”  
Gregg continued to fiddle his virtual hands all over Angus' virtual backside while Mae's character, wandering off to her tent, was flailing hands around in what equated to a dance. Sort of.  
  
“Ah. Yes. That's-...” Angus's head swerved around, noted Gregg's behavior, and he did nothing to stop it. “That _is_ my butt.”  
  
“ _HECK YEA_ , Angus' BUTT!” Mae cried out from the distance.  
  
Gregg cited, “ _You're_ the leader, Babe, you gotta tell _us_ what to do. Otherwise, I'm-a just keep doing this...” He was bobbing his head wildly to and fro, 'smacking' Angus' characters behind like a drum, his hands briefly disappearing into Angus' legs with each motion.  
  
“I want to let _Beatrice_ decide what we do this time,” Angus protested.  
  
“What, _me?_ I've got no _idea_ what we're supposed to do...”  
  
“Ah, it's fine,” Angus assured. “This is a virtual sandbox, the fun is whatever you make of it. We could roleplay, we could go hunting, we could go fishing-”  
“We're not high enough _level_ to go fishing yet,” Gregg grunted, finding new ways to pat Angus' behind.  
“Oh, you're...not?” Angus seemed bewildered. “Ah, I forgot about that...”  
  
“You need to be a high level to go... _fishing?_ ” Bea checked, a bit confused.  
  
“Yes, well,” Angus nodded his head in that slow, clear way, sticking out both palms at his sides. “I guess they...want you to learn things one step at a time.”  
  
Mae was strolling back over, her attire completely different now.  
  
“AH WANNA **TUSSEL**!” she declared in a gruff growl. “Murder me some COW POLK.”  
  
“Mae, that's...-”  
“OOOOo, _ooooOOO_!” Gregg finally gave up on his butt-patting and walked over to Mae. “Yea, let's go MURDER.”  
  
“Why?” Bea flatly questioned.  
  
Both Gregg and Mae's characters turned toward her, and in a few moments of awkward pauses and odd timing, their faces emoted wildly, flashing with offended, sad, and angry expressions.  
  
“We. Are. COWBOYS,” Mae snarled.  
  
Beatrice shook her head. “ _I'm_ not a cowboy.”  
  
“And. COWGIRLS,” Mae corrected.

  
“Yea, _jeez,_ Bee,” Gregg sighed, “What is even the _point_ of playing cowboys if you're gonna question murder??”  
  
“Well,” said Angus slowly, his character tapping an index finger into his own cheek. “We _are_ at war with another gang over this territory. We could rank up our reputation in our faction if we defeated other players from the rival gang...But...-”  
  
“I still need to buy good BOOTS for this outfit,” Gregg expressed.  
  
“And I need a better HAT,” Mae chimed in.  
  
She and Gregg nodded at each other, saying in unison, “ _Fashion Souls_...”  
  
Chuckling, Angus pondered, “Well, there's a guy who gives odd jobs not far from here, maybe we could pick up a delivery quest while we decide what to do?”

 

“And _maybe_ ,” said Mae, “we should rob someone while we're at it.”  
  
“I like this idea,” agreed Gregg.  
  
“What, like, other players?” Bea wondered, a little wary at the notion.  
  
“Nah, there's like, rando NPCs you steal shit from,” Mae explained.  
  
“Hm, true, that would help you earn cash for the clothes you want,” Angus hummed and hawed, his hands crossed, which looked odd with no arms. “I mean, I'm trying to keep _my_ reputation out of the red, but I know you two want to-”  
“WE WANNA DO **CRIMES.** ”  
“I WANNA _**STEAL.**_ ”  
  
“I _don't_ want those things,” Bea made known with an audible sigh.  
  
With exasperation, Mae complained, “What is the GOL'DARN point o' bein' COWBOYS if ya'll don't wanna do _crimes?_ ”  
  
“Why can't I be a shopkeep?” Beatrice theorized.  
  
“A- _whuh_?!” Mae whimpered. “YOU ARE a shopkeep. In real **life.** ”  
  
“Exactly. Maybe I want to stick with what I know.”  
  
“ _BORING._ ”  
“Unacceptable,” Gregg chimed in.  
“They don't let you be a shopkeep,” Angus primly informed.  
  
“ _Fine,_ ” Bea dryly conceded, “Can we at least, like, play _cards_ or something? That's a thing, right?”  
  
“Not yet,” said Angus plainly.  
  
Tossing her head back, Beatrice lamented, “They don't let you play cards, they don't let you be a shopkeep, they don't let you _fish_...But you can do _plenty_ of murder, huh?”  
  
_“HAH=HA+AHA”  
“MW%EHEH##EH”_  
  
Gregg and Mae cackled chaotically through an awkward high-five between disembodied hands that passed through each other. They followed this up with a slightly off-timed unison cry of “ _Crimes!_ ”  
  
“Um...W-well...” Oh, Angus. “Eventually, you _can_ do...two of those things...”  
  
“What,” Bea clarified, “you mean things that aren't murder or robbery?”  
  
“Cowboys steal, Bea, whatcha EXPECT?”  
  
Bea countered Mae with, “Isn't the entire idolization of the wild west image built on the idea of worshipping the concept of the 'free cowboy' as that role's place in society gradually decays in a world that has no use or need for him? Especially if he's a criminal?”  
  
“GIT!” Mae growled, shooing her hands at Bea's face. “GITCHER falootin' cafe jive hipster shit OUTTA my _cowboy-fantasy-land!_ ” Bea found herself instinctually leaning backward, sideways, dodging the swatting gloved hands.  
  
“OK, _well_ ,” said Angus, “We're wasting time, here. _I_ am going to see that NPC to take a friendly quest. Yuh- _all_ can do whatever you like...”  
  
Angus' character swerved around, wobbling direction a bit until he located his horse.  
  
Ah, right. Horse. Bea still... _had_ one of those, right?  
  
“If we run into anyone on the way _AHM KILLIN' 'EM_ ,” Mae declared brusquely as she followed Angus.  
  
“Let me know if you see any rabbits,” Gregg requested.  
  
_“Ahm killin' those, too,”_ Mae growled quietly.  
  
Shaking her head to herself, and amusing at how her in-game head swiveled while her eyes could stay locked onto her friends, Beatrice followed, figuring there'd be a horse for her to ride, either way.  
  
There was a whistle sound. And then two more whistle sounds, of different pitches. And then there was suddenly _a lot_ of whistling sounds.  
  
She remembered there was some button for that – to whistle, and call your horse. With luck and decent memory, she managed to figure it out quickly, and sure enough, her gray-haired, splotchy horse galloped into sight, the name [ **Drillbit** ] floating above him. Her? Bea wasn't actually sure of her horse's gender and had not bothered to look into any details. Maybe it was a non-binary horse, who was she to assert such things?  
  
The motion of climbing up onto the horse involved a simple press of a button but was a little disorienting in first person with her physical body... _not_ moving at all.  
  
The game prompted Bea to press in her wand controller's triggers, which magnet-attached the reigns to her in-game hands. She waggled her hands around a bit for the novelty of it, and veered her head around to observe her comrades all saddling up.  
  
“Everyone ready?” Angus checked. “I'm putting a marker on the map in case anyone gets lost.”  
  
“How do I look at the map again?” Bea checked.  
  
Angus explained which button she had to hold down, and this caused her character to actually pull a map up, in her virtual hands. Sure enough, there was a very noticeable red 'X' somewhere northeast, with a dotted line guiding them from their current location.  
  
“Ahm ready, PARD,” said Gregg, adding a “Pitooie!” which he spoke. As a word.  
  
“Um...” Angus started galloping off. “Let's be off, then. Uh, _gang._ High-hoh and stuff.”  
  
“HI HO, RABIES!” Mae bellowed, flicking her wrists up and down to get her horse's reigns whipped. Why the mother living eff Mae had named her horse 'Rabies' was beyond Bea, and Mae's attempt at explaining it (' _Rabies is GOD, Rabies is_ _ **LIFE!**_ _'_ ) had only confused her further.  
  
“YIPPY KAY YOO, moh-fuckers,” Gregg cheered.  
  
“...Yee. Haw.” Bea was...reaaallllly getting into it.  
  
Beatrice whipped her horse's reigns feebly, struggling a little to use them to steer her steed. The controls were _very_ sensitive...  
  
And so did the four ride, ride, ride, for what felt like a small eternity but was actually only, like, ninety seconds. Bea felt like she was wrestling in a rodeo every time they had to make a sharp turn.  
  
When they were nearing their destination, Gregg suddenly got very excited.  
  
“OH OH OH, rabbit RABBIT **ahWOOOOOOOO**!”  
  
“I got it, it's MINE, I saw it first!” Mae snarled.  
  
And the pair of them immediately dart _right_ off the dirt road, their horses sprinting after a rabbit Bea hadn't even noticed. She watched their horses bump against each other as they both desperately fired off shots at the ground in front of them. Man. _Those_ two...What a pair of-  
**WHOA.  
  
**Beatrice's entire world went spinning. She was very airborne for a second, then very _ground_ borne the next.  
  
“ _Whuh-_?! The hell?!” she cried out in irritated frustration, wiggling her controller's stick around and flailing her hands as her character stood upright.  
  
Her horse sounded _very_ unhappy, their animation clipping through some rocks as they, too, tried to return to their feet.  
  
“You OK, Bea?!” Angus called out from the distance, his horse slowing down.  
  
“Wasn't looking where I was going,” Beatrice groaned. “My horse ran into a damn _rock_...”  
  
“Ha. Yes. That... _will_ happen sometimes...Should I wait for you?”  
  
“If you don't mind?” Beatrice called back with a self-frustrated sigh, finding her way back to her horse. She inadvertently _sprinted_ past it, spinning back around twice before actually locating it. This perspective was a little dizzying at worst, but pretty immersive at best. An interesting trade-off.  
  
**-BANG-BANG, BANG-  
-BOOM-**  
  
“GODDAMNIT Gregg, he was MINE!”  
“Snooze ya lose, pard!”  
  
Beatrice cast a glance off at her two friends squabbling in the distance, dismounting and bolting after their petty game.  
  
Having finally managed to get back on the horse, in the literal sense, Beatrice saw something on the ground nearby – _oh,_ her hat? That was _right,_ her hat could get knocked off...Stupid thing...  
  
She went through the tedious task of _dismounting_ her horse, wobbling her character awkwardly toward the hat, scooping her hand down, pinching the hat in her fingers, and placing it back on her head. The last part actually felt kind of neat, at least. At the top of her periphery, she realized that the hat 'existed' on her head. The brim was actually there, blocking out a bit of sun. She just hadn't really noticed it before. Technology was neat?  
  
“Whuht in TARN-ation?!”  
“Best be ridin' ALONG, now...”  
  
Who the heck were those people? A couple of cowfolk were bickering with Mae and Gregg.  
  
**-BANG, BANG, BANG-  
-BOOM-BOOM-  
  
**_**“HURK-!”  
“BLEAGH-!”  
  
**_“GOT 'em.” _ **  
**_ “Whoa, Mae, you actually CAN aim...-”  
“Thanks.”  
“-...when they're braindead, motionless, literally right in front of you.”  
“SHUT up.”  
  
Some ominous sound pelted at Bea's ears as red text flashed over the center of her vision.  
  
[ **WANTED** ]  
  
“Oh, dear,” Angus sighed, having backtracked to Beatrice's side. “You've, um-...You've gone and killed a couple of innocent people...”  
  
“Crimes?”  
“Crimes!”  
  
“Were those other players?” Beatrice asked, assuming not – their voices had sounded different from the voicechat stuff.  
  
Angus' character shook his head, and he generated an emote that looked...rather unimpressed with the situation, following by a face-palm gesture.  
  
“No,” he said tiredly. “Some NPC's, computer characters...This, um, this... _happens_ ,” he mumbled. “When I play with them.” Lowering his voice a little, he explained, “I actually have been playing by myself a lot to recuperate the Bad Reputation they've been giving me...”  
  
“I don't get it, _we_ didn't murder anyone,” Beatrice complained.  
  
“We're part of the same gang,” Angus explained.  
  
Mae and Gregg were galloping back over. Gregg had a dead rabbit attached to the side of his horse. Mae had the corpse of an NPC dangling on her horse's back.  
  
“BEA!” Mae cried excitedly. “I. Got. You. _A MEAL. ahahahahaaa..._ ”  
  
“...Gross,” Beatrice sighed, a little unsettled yet secretly amused by Mae's dark humor.  
  
“Um...” Gregg's horse was rotating in a circle in a weird, unnatural way. “The rabbit I understand, Babe, but...why the people?” Beatrice was getting dizzy looking at his character spin around in slow circles. The horse's feet weren't even moving...  
  
“They was gonna _ambush us,_ pardner,” Gregg blurted out.  
  
“ _This_ asshole had a _faiii-yurrr_ in 'is eyesssss,” Mae growled, hopping off her horse and dumping the corpse onto the road.  
  
“Didn't we, um, _talk_ about not murdering the NPC's?” Angus reminded, his tone walking that delicate balance Beatrice recognized when he was actually pretty irritated. And, yea, he was still...spinning. A glitch?  
  
“Maybe?” Gregg sheepishly mumbled, shrugging out his hands and tilting his head. “It was self-defense, Babe.”  
  
“ _Was_ it, though...?” Angus mumbled dubiously. “Well, either way, now we're Wanted, so...I guess we should go lay low for a little bit.”  
  
“Wait-wait,” Beatrice called out, “Is no one else seeing what Angus is doing?”  
  
“Huh?”  
“Standing?”  
“I'm doing what, now?”  
  
Angus and his horse were...still rotating in circles. Then Angus sank into the sand.  
  
“ _Pfffff_ ,” Beatrice snorted a laugh.  
  
Angus reappeared, no worse for wear, and seemed to be functioning again.  
  
“You were glitching out in my game,” Bea explained.  
  
“O-Oh. Am I still?”  
  
“No, I think we're good.”  
  
“FURRGET that! We're wanted men!”  
“And a woman.”  
“Wanted PEOPLE. The poh-lees gonna be _after_ our butts,” Mae grunted. “I say we _hold fast,_ my brethren, and stand our _ground,_ lest these inferior 'modern' teachings betray our brutal roots as creatures of the earth!”  
  
“I think you're hopping genres, buddy,” Beatrice said flatly.  
  
“WHAT did I durn gon said about that HIPSTER SHIT, Bee?!”  
  
“I mean... _I_ vote we go hide,” said Gregg. “Like. Maybe now?”  
  
“Aw, _what_?!” blurted Mae with shocked disappointed.  
  
“All in favor?” Angus proposed, raising a hand. Gregg raised one, nodding his head while emoting his face with glee.  
  
Beatrice finagled with the controls and managed to get her character to emote a dull, disinterested look, and raised her hand as well.  
  
“The 'aye's' have it,” said Angus, beginning to ride off the road.  
  
“The NAY has a GUN!” Mae huffed, **-BANG!-** firing her pistol up into the air. “And _this_ 'nay' says FOOEY.” **-BANG!-BANG!-** “Down with The Man! Down with The Establishment! Make the West WILD again!” **  
  
-KRAKOWWWWwwww...-  
  
**[ **bioHAZARD-warfare** _killed_ **X_witchdagger_X** ] **  
  
****[** “Oh _fuck,_ ” ] Mae blurted into the chat, her character's body flying off her horse and landing in a heap on the road. [ “Someone _shot me_!” ]  
  
“Oh. Yeeeee, you _dead,_ ” Gregg giggled, prancing his horse around on Mae's ragdolling corpse.  
  
[ “HEY! Stoppit!” ] Mae hissed.  
  
“That's the _only_ warning ya'll're gonna _git_!” bellowed a familiar voice from the distance down the road. “Surrender peacefully, n' ain't no one else gotta get hurt...”  
  
“What the _hey?!_ ” Gregg murmured, aghast.  
  
The surviving three whirled their horses around to face their attacker.  
  
[ “Shit, it's gonna be a minute before I can get back,” ] Mae mumbled, her horse vanishing in a dustcloud. [ “Respawned me a ways off...” ]  
  
“Ohhhh, dear,” mumbled Angus drearily.  
  
Their assailant strode toward them proudly, holding a rifle in one hand, which he tucked away in favor of a shiny-looking pistol. He was a short, stout little man, garbed entirely in white, black, and gold. His vest had all kinds of leather frills, as did his boots and gloves to match. His belt buckle was large and ominous, portraying a golden stick of dynamite. His hat was large and fancy, with a curved brim and a golden ribbon tied around its base. Upon his chest was a large, shining, golden badge.  
  
Taunting them, the opposing player rode right up to them on a horse of pure white. Their username floated above, colored in white text.  
  
[ _Sheriff –_ **bioHAZARD-warfare** ]  
  
“It seems a coupla mah _officers_ got done in by a pack o' _rats_... **Vermin** what got _no place_ in my land.”  
  
“Germ?” Angus balked, alarmed.  
  
“Ah must _admit,_ Mister Angus, I thought you were _better'n_ this...”  
  
Oh, _wow,_ holy _fuck,_ it _was_ Germ, wasn't it?!  
  
“Holy _shit,_ ” Beatrice burst into cackles. “Fucking _Germ?!_ Is that _you_?”  
  
**-kaPEWww!-**  
  
_WHOA,_ he went and _shot_ Bea's hat clean off her head!  
  
[ “Wait, say what, now?!” ] Mae was grumbling into the voice chat. [ “You found Germ? He's in the game?” ]  
  
“Oh, um, he...found _us,_ ” Angus warily said.  
  
“Fucking Germ,” Bea chortled to herself.  
  
“Ain't no 'Germ' in this here place,” said Germ, clearly getting way into the roleplay aspect. “I am _THE LAW._ ”  
  
“ _FFFFFFffff_...” Gregg sputtered laughs. “Izzat _so?_ ” He whipped out his pistol, cocking it and taking aim. “Best you be on yer w-”  
**-kaPEWww!-  
**[ “-ay, afore I-...Oh, _damn._ ” ]  
  
[ **bioHAZARD-warfare** _killed_ **greggggggggory** ] **  
**  
“...Well,” said Angus dully, watching Gregg's horse vanish. “This is...fine.”  
  
“Ah _tried_ ta warn ya'll,” goaded Germ.  
  
[ “Germ just deadass one-shotted me,” ] Gregg scoffed, all huffy and surprised.  
  
[ “Is Germ _forreal_ fighting us?!” ] Mae cried. [ “Oh, he is gonna _get some._ ” ]  
  
“N-Now, fellows,” Angus said warily. “Let's not...get hasty, here, no need to escalate things...”  
  
Germ declared grievously, “YA'LL 'escalated' matters when ya went n' _slaughtered_ two officers of the Law.”  
  
“Yeaaaa, that wasn't _us,_ ” Beatrice pointed out. “That was Mae and Gregg.”  
  
[ “SNITCH!” ] Mae squealed.  
  
“She's right,” Angus agreed. “She and I took no part in such...awful, terrible happenings.”  
  
“But such villainy transpired under _yer_ watch,” said Germ, his horse taking two steps closer to them. “You're the _leader_ of this sordid crew! Now. Are you gonna take _responsibility_ fer these crimes, or do I gotta _dispatch_ the rest o' you lot before more _calamity_ befalls this burg?”  
  
Beatrice sighed, holding both of her hands up.  
  
“Uh...I'm a pacifist,” she bluntly stated.  
  
“Oh, erh...-” Angus was finagling with his inventory. “Can we not...simply...pay our bounty, and be on our way? How much we do owe?”  
  
“JUSTICE is PRICELESS,” Germ roared, brandishing his pistol at Angus. “Do the crime, pay the TIME.”  
  
“It-...It's just that I only have so much of that – time, I mean? – before I have to turn in for the night...Work in the morning, and...-”  
  
“THE LAW does not sleep!”  
**-kaPEWww!-**  
“THE LAW is ALWAYS clocked in!”  
  
Prick shot poor Angus' hat off his head.  
  
“ _Whoa._ Dude,” Beatrice growled. “Why the hell are you doing _this_ crap instead of playing _with_ us?”  
  
“I don't abide _thieves_ in my my town _,_ ” Germ cited, his pistol clicking as it readied another shot. “The Law is even holier a bond than that of kinsman, and I _do_ intend to preserve order, no matter the cost.”  
  
Man. Ha. Guy was crazier than usual here. Which, uh, that was something.  
  
[ “Well, we _are_ thieves,” ] said Gregg.  
  
“I'm not,” disagreed Angus.  
  
[ “You robbed that train _right_ alongside us,” ] Gregg pointed out. Bea remembered that. She'd spent most of _that_ time just tried to catch up to the damn train, having not understood how to jump _onto_ it.  
  
“SOOoo, you _confess_ to misdeeds!” Germ was...having fun, apparently.  
  
“I mean...-” Angus paused. “That was before I understood how the system worked. _And,_ and, I thought it was a 'take from the rich, give to the poor' type of situation. I was just following Gregg's lead. I'm not really into this if we're just running around committing petty crimes.”  
  
[ “Aw, Babe. If you _really_ didn't like it, you could've like...said something, or...-” ]  
  
“I _did!_ ”  
  
“He did,” Bea backed him up. “I think you were too busy, like, lassoing a dude off the train and watching his body skid along the tracks.”  
  
[ “I _punched_ a guy so hard he fell off and got run over by your horse,” ] Mae reminded.  
  
“Uh...Yea. I was there,” said Bea. “That was unpleasant.”  
  
[ “Well, shit,” ] Gregg groaned, [ “Sorry, Cap'n, I mean, I can always do crimes with Mae on our own, if that's better.” ]  
  
“I, um-...Yea, I'd like that.”  
  
[ “Stop being _mushy!_ ” ] said Mae. [ “We are _outlaws!_ ” ]  
  
“I'd rather not be outlaws,” said Angus. “Mushy cowboys sounds way more interesting.”  
  
“Way less cliché, too,” Bea agreed.  
  
“OF COURSE ya'll wanna repent fer yer crimes, after ya been _caught_!”  
  
Ah, right. Germ was still there.  
  
His character whistled long and loud, and horse gallops could be heard in the distance.  
  
“So ya think yer _above_ the Law, do ya?!” Germ howled.  
  
“Erh, I don't...recall implying that,” Angus mumbled. “At all.”  
  
Her arms tired, Beatrice lowered them into her lap, shaking her head slightly.  
  
“Ain't _no one_ above **The Law.** ”  
  
A group of other players, dressed in white hats, were galloping from the direction Germ had come from. A lot of their usernames were jumbled together since they were far off, but Beatrice could make out the word [ _Deputy_ ] in there a bunch of times.  
  
“Ah, um. Right.” Angus sounded simultaneously impatient, tired, annoyed, and defeated. Poor guy. “Well, please state your conditions, and we will...negotiate terms.”  
  
[ “NEVER give up, NEVER surrender!” ] Mae was decreeing. Beatrice pulled out her map and could see Mae's character riding up on their position, Gregg not far behind.  
  
“Plotting an _escape route,_ are you?” Germ suspected.  
  
“Nope,” Bea replied plainly, tucking the map back away.  
  
“How can we make things right with...'The Law?'” Angus inquired. He sniffed, then yawned.  
  
“Surrender your weapons, and we'll escort you to jail to serve your sentence,” said Germ.  
  
“Sounds...like a great video-gamey _time_ ,” Beatrice lamented. “He can play _police_ officer and I can't run a damn shop?”  
  
“COPS. AND. ROBBERS,” Mae was blurting, her character's voice no longer muffled by lack of presence, but directionally projected from behind where Beatrice and Angus stood.

 

Germ's crew had gotten close enough where Bea could make out a caged cart. Great, so they were gonna have to sit and ride in _that_ thing, and then who knew what else? _Or_ they could have a shoot out.  
  
None of this was quite what Bea had signed up for. She had _seen_ footage of this game, of people doing things like hiking and fishing and playing frickin' _cards,_ why were they doing _this_ crap?  
  
“ **BOB?!** _DO somethin'!_ ” Mae snarled, firing off her gun. Beatrice could hear the bullets _whizzing_ by her.  
  
**-BANG!fsss-BANG!fsss-**  
  
“It's **HIIIIIIGHHHH NOOOOOOON**...” Ah, cool. Gregg was also here now.  
  
**-kaPEWww-pew-pew-pew-pew-  
-POMF-kaCHIK-POMF-kaCHIK-  
-sssROW-  
-KRAKOWWWWwwww...-  
****-kaPINGgg-** **  
-zzzREEnn-** **  
-kapINGgg-  
****-KRAKOWWWWwwww...-  
-pomf-kaCHIK-** **  
  
**A hellfire of bullets went flying from both directions. Even Angus had pulled out his shotgun, blowing Germ off his horse.  
  
**[ DEAD ]**  
  
As her character was thrown into the air in slow motion, Beatrice watched the sky roll around. She couldn't even keep track of all of the names whizzing by the bottom of her display as everyone killed one another. Death was perhaps the most peace she had experienced in this session thus far. And then, it was ruined by all of the chaos transpiring around her.  
  
Her nose tightening with impatience, she sucked in a bridled breath of irritation. She was actually relieved as her camera faded to black, then blurred up light to reveal the camp where she'd started. There were still all kinds of grumblings going on in her group's voice chat. After slowly exhaling her held breath of annoyance, she went to her settings, turned _off_ her voice chat, and soaked in the atmosphere.  
  
The nearby lake sloshing around.  
  
The campfire crackling.  
  
Some birds chirping.  
  
The gentle snapping of a tree branch in the distance.  
  
She got the whole, like...'living out violent instincts in a safe, non-physical environment to vent out steam' sort of deal with...the shooting, and the killing, and everything.  
  
But Beatrice wondered why such wondrous technology couldn't be spent just as much on things like _this:_ inhabiting a space, transporting one's self to somewhere foreign but familiar, peaceful and-...  
  
Ah. There was...Mae's muscle-bound weirdo cowboy, emoting angrily at Beatrice. Swerving hands around, balled into fists.  
  
Bea couldn't hear the voice chat.  
  
She emoted a smiling face, feeling pretty satisfied.  
  
Mae's character began walking into Bea's, nudging her toward the campfire as she continued to emote erratically.  
  
Chuckling softly, Bea did nothing but survey the detail of the heat rising from the fire.  
  
Gregg loaded into camp, and Angus shortly after.  
  
Well. Time to re-enter the chaos, she figured.  
  
She turned her voicechat back on.  
  
“-he'd _pull this shit_ on us, he was supposed to be one of _us!_ ” Mae was whining.  
“Maybe if you'd asked _him_ how _he_ wanted to play...-”  
“Sorry, Babe.”  
  
Bea unceremoniously wandered to a chair set up by the campfire with a banjo leaning next to it.  
  
“COPS. AND. ROBBBERS.”  
“Red and Dead, not...erh...Blue and Friends.”  
“Why _not_ Blue and Friends?”  
  
She pressed a button and magneted the instrument to her hands, pressed another button to sit down and gave the instrument a strum. It produced an amusingly warm chord despite her lack of skill.  
  
Beatrice then interjected into their conversation, “Blue Buddy...Funtimes.”  
  
She began to waggled her hand around at the banjo, and it somehow produced what sounded like actual music.  
  
“ _Nooooo,_ ” Mae whimpered, thrashing fists around. “Guns, bullets, shoot-shoot, OUTLAWS, crimes,-”  
“Crimes,” Gregg agreed quietly, with a nod.  
“-robbin', stealin', PILFERIN', murderin', no-good mangy OUTLAWS.”  
  
The group fell silent, listening to Beatrice's pre-produced strumming. The melody looped, and when the group had figured it out, Gregg began to hum it, and Angus joined in with some vague 'ah's' and 'ooh's' for vocals. Mae had grouchily wandered away, then returned with the rabbit carcass from earlier, which she stuck to her knife and held over the fire.  
  
Angus concluded, “I think I'm going to change the name of our clan to 'Blue Buddies.'”  
  
“Seconded,” Beatrice immediately spat, still playing fake banjo.  
  
“Thirded,” said Gregg, grinning at Mae's angry emote.  
  
“But... _CRIMES_ ,” she pleaded with Gregg, her character scarfing down half a cooked rabbit in one bite.  
  
“Eh, we get up to enough crimes in reality,” said Gregg.  
  
A half-eaten roasted rabbit was sailing through the air, right at Bea's face. She held up one hand, and clenched the controller's trigger at the right time, catching it. Huh. Technology. She held it up to her face and her character chomped it down with a loud smacking noise and a belch.  
  
Strumming at her banjo again, Bea concluded, “Might as well do stuff we normally don't right?”  
  
“Like die anywhere else,” said Gregg. “Which, uh, we just did? So, yea.”  


 

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for giving this story a try!
> 
> You can check out this blog post if you want to know what stuff can help support my work.  
>  https://destiny-smasher.tumblr.com/post/184754205794/support
> 
> Thank you for all of your support, especially taking the time to read this!


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